


Under Midnight Lights

by voxanonymi (spasmodicIntrigue)



Series: for all the nights we couldn't sleep [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Blood, Coming of Age, Friendship, Gen, Humor, I wish I had an Ignis, Ignis is the best, Light Angst, One (1) Very Cute Kitten, Slice of Life, it's been 84 years since i posted and i've forgotten how to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 10:18:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15884058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spasmodicIntrigue/pseuds/voxanonymi
Summary: It was dark, but the light of a nearby street lamp was enough to illuminate the soaking wet cardboard box shoved up against the wall a few paces back from the mouth of the narrow alleyway. Another desperatereeeesounded out as Noctis drew nearer.It's one thing to find an abandoned kitten in an alleyway. It's another to leave it there, and Noctis refuses to be that person. It's Ignis, of course, who helps bear the fallout of this fluffy discovery.





	Under Midnight Lights

**Author's Note:**

> I would love it if I had something witty to say here but I am le tired. This is, as you may have noticed, part of a series, but you don't need to have read the first part to understand this one. There is a reference to it, but it's not essential to the plot. That being said, if you _want_ to go and read the first part of the series before you read this one, then by all means! Or, you could be a total rebel and read this one first, _then_ read the other one. Don't let me stop you! 
> 
> You know what I love, though? Comments. I'm tired enough to not feel like an ass for saying that. Holy shit it's 3am when'd that happen?

“I officially hate my job.”

_“Most people hate their jobs, Noct_ ,” was Ignis’ impressively instantaneous response.

“You hate yours?” Noctis couldn’t help but ask.

Ignis took distinctly longer to reply. “ _Only sometimes_.” It was a phone conversation, but Noctis could imagine Ignis’ ironic expression as if they were face-to-face.

“Specs. You wound me. You’re supposed to say, ‘No, Noct, never! Being your adviser is the best job a bespectacled know-it-all could ask for!’”

_“Well, I’m contractually obligated not to lie to you_.”

Noctis laughed. Then, “Wait. You’re not actually under contract, are you?”

Now it was Ignis’ turn to laugh. _“No, Noct_.” On the other end of the line, Noctis heard the slamming of a car door. _“I’ll be there in ten minutes_.”

“Sweet. Thanks, Speccy.”

_“Pleasure_.” Then he hung up.

Noctis tucked his phone into the palm of his hand and jammed his hands into his armpits. It was unseasonably cold for a mid-September evening, and the glass bus stop, while providing shelter from the pelting rain, did little to deter the sharp wind. Nor did Noctis’ thin hoodie, for that matter.

Being stuck here was simply the sub-par icing on top of the stale, slightly mouldy cake that was the past fifteen or so hours. A shitty ending to a shitty day.

This morning he’d been late to his nine-AM class, thanks to the overnight power maintenance on his apartment building, which meant his phone hadn’t charged, which meant it had died, which meant his alarm hadn’t gone off. He finally got to campus only to find that his usual seat by Prompto was taken (which was _such_ a breach of classroom etiquette, even if Noctis weren’t literal royalty). He’d had to sit in one of the only available seats in the front row. At least there’d been a power socket there so he could charge his phone.

After classes, Noctis had his usual Friday shift at Sushi King. The irony of the restaurant’s name was not lost on Noctis, nor on Gladio, who hadn’t shut up about it since Noctis had started working there this summer.

(Noctis getting a job had been Ignis’ idea, because of course it had, and Ignis, being Ignis, had run it by Noctis’ father, because of _course_ he had. His Majesty, King Dad, thought it was a fantastic idea, because _of course he did_.)

Most days, the Sushi King was a merciful ruler, but the Friday dinner shift was rough. To put it lightly. And _today_. Oh boy. His manager, Dario, had taken a phone order for two rolls of vegetarian maki, which had avocado, cucumber, and cream cheese. Little did Noctis know that the customer had asked for one of these rolls to forego the cream cheese, but fucking _Dario_ neglected to write that part down. So _Noctis_ was the one to get yelled at, when the lactose-intolerant customer came to pick up her order.

As if Noctis didn’t feel bad enough about the mistake: halfway through yelling at him, the woman’s eyes widened in recognition. Noctis half expected her to bow and scrape and apologise, since that was usually how things went. Alas, no. Instead, she shook her head and muttered, “I truly fear for the future of Lucis.”

Didn’t that just feel great.

Rather than immediately going home and burying himself in bed and sleeping until he felt better, which was what he wanted to do, Noctis had to make the order again—without the cream cheese—and sheepishly tell the woman that she didn’t have to pay.

Everyone else in the crowded restaurant watched on in perverse interest.

The rain swept in just as Sushi King was closing up for the night. After the day’s ordeals, Noctis _refused_ to walk home in the rain. Theoretically, he could wait half an hour for a bus, but why do that when he had a perfectly good Ignis to come pick him up?

The wind gusted through the shelter. Noctis shivered. He checked the time on his phone. 22:22, it told him. On the bright side, in just over an hour and a half this shitty day would officially be over. On the not-so-bright side, it had only been three minutes since he’d called Ignis.

He shoved his phone-hand back under his arm, shrinking down into his hoodie for all the warmth it was worth. Which, regrettably, was not much.

After another couple of minutes, the wind and rain seemed to let up a little, becoming a heavy drizzle rather than a light monsoon. Noctis had stopped shivering. Over the much gentler sigh of raindrops on pavement, Noctis thought he heard a high-pitched mewling.

Then he heard it again.

_No_ , he told himself. _No way, Noct. This isn’t an anime. You’re not just gonna find a kitten and take it home and beg Ignis to let you keep it and…_ There it was again, the mewling, keening, so sad and pathetic. It was coming from the alleyway to the right of the bus stop.

Curiosity got the better of him. Shoving his phone into his pocket, Noctis stood, pulled his hood as far over his face as it would go, and stepped out into the rain. He hunched in on himself as he jogged over to the alley to investigate.

It was dark, but the light of a nearby street lamp was enough to illuminate the soaking wet cardboard box shoved up against the wall a few paces back from the mouth of the narrow alleyway. Another desperate _reeee_ sounded out as Noctis drew nearer.

Curled up in the corner of a flimsy box dumped in the shadow of a dumpster in an alley by a bus stop near Sushi King was a tiny, black, skin-and-bones kitten. It was even tinier and more pitiable for the fact that it was soaked through by the rain.

Something in Noctis’ chest (probably his heart… metaphorically speaking) twisted painfully.

“Hey,” he said softly, crouching down beside the box. A wide pair of trembling blue eyes stared up at him. The kitten was alone in the box: there was no blanket, no food, not even a scrap of newspaper. The stench of ammonia, too pungent for the rain to wash away, assaulted Noctis’ nostrils as he leaned closer. There was another scent there, too, something he couldn’t quite place. Familiar and unpleasant as it was, it was overpowered by the smell of cat piss.

The kitten bared its teensy little fangs and… mewed at him.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” Noctis said. He bit his lip, unsure exactly what he _was_ gonna do. “You look so cold…” He couldn’t just _leave_ it here, it’d probably freeze to death before morning!

Oh, man. What was Ignis going to say?

Slowly, so as not to appear threatening, he reached out with both hands, and carefully, _very_ carefully, scooped it up, cradling it against his chest for warmth.

He caught that smell again, and realised what it was. Heartrate kicking up a few notches, he took one hand off the kitten and looked at his fingers.

“Oh, _shit_.” There was blood on his fingers.

The kitten shivered against his breastbone.

“It’s okay,” Noctis said breathlessly, pulling himself to his feet. “You’ll be okay. I’m gonna get you out of here, and we’ll patch you up, okay?”

With miraculous timing, the rumble of a car pulling up to the bus stop sounded over the ever-present hiss of rain.

“See? Look!” Noctis told the kitten, leaving the alley and the reeking wet box behind. “Iggy’s here! Iggy will help us, okay? We’ll get you someplace safe.”

Sitting in the driver’s seat, Ignis’ appraising stare was unreadable as Noctis hurried towards the car, quick as he could without jostling the kitten too much.

It was blessedly warm and dry in Ignis’ car, but Noctis had little time to appreciate it as he launched into a garbled explanation the second he opened the door.

“I heard him yelling and I knew if I left him he’d probably die, and he’s _bleeding_ , Ignis, he’s hurt. We need to get him to a vet or he’ll die!”

“Calm down,” Ignis said firmly. “Let me see.”

Noctis unfolded his cold-stiff fingers from around the kitten. He’d been holding it a little tightly. The kitten blinked its jewel-blue eyes at him, long and slow, showing no signs of pain—just exhaustion. Noctis swallowed hard.

Ignis, gloves pulled off, leaned over the centre console and gently lifted the kitten; one hand under its front legs, the other supporting its hindquarters. Held thus, and with the lights on, they could both see the glisten of dark blood matted in the fur of the kitten’s left haunch.

Ignis and Noctis frowned at each other. The kitten started to purr, a gentle little rumbling, as if nothing were wrong.

“At a guess, I’d say it’s been attacked,” Ignis suggested. “By another cat, perhaps, or a small dog. Here.”

Noctis formed a cradle with his arms. Ignis carefully placed the kitten within it.

“What do we do?” Noctis asked. “Are there any vets nearby?”

Ignis frowned, pulling out a handkerchief to wipe the blood off his hands. “Yes, but they won’t be open at this time of night.”

“Well, then, what do we do?” Noctis asked again, a little more desperately. He was _not_ going to let this kitten die. He was the god damn prince of this country, and this kitten was one of his denizens—it was his _responsibility_ to help it. Even more than that, though, it was just… the right thing to do. Anyone who could see an injured kitten abandoned in an alley and just leave it to _die_ was not the kind of person Noctis ever wanted to meet, let alone be.

For that matter, someone had clearly abandoned the poor thing in the first place. There was no way to find out who, but Noctis _dearly_ wished there were, so he could go to that person’s house and clock them in the face.

Gloves back on, Ignis started up the car. “the young woman in the apartment next to mine is a veterinary student,” he said. “Hopefully she can help.”

 

“It doesn’t look good,” was Ignis’ vet-student neighbour’s prognosis, examining the docile kitten under a lamp on her coffee table. Her own cat, a fluffy ginger, sat sentry-like on the couch, watching the proceedings with attentive grey eyes. “She’ll need stitches.”

Noctis, kneeling on the other side of the table, was nauseated by how much redder and more obvious the amount of blood was under the bright white light. Or maybe he was getting motion sickness from his own damn shivering. Soaked inside and out with rain and adrenaline respectively, he hadn’t stopped shaking since before he’d gotten into Ignis’ car nearly fifteen minutes ago.

“Can… can you do that?” he asked.

The neighbour—Corine, her name was—shook her head grimly. “I don’t have the equipment, let alone the qualification. Plus, we don’t know how much blood she’s lost. She may need a transfusion.”

“Then what do we do?” Noctis asked, for what already felt like the millionth time that evening. He felt so useless.

Corine, a severe-faced young woman, cracked a tiny smile, eyes flicking to Noctis as she stroked the kitten’s downy head with a finger. “There’s an after-hours emergency clinic downtown,” she said. The kitten blinked tiredly. “For now, I can stop the bleeding, dry her off, and apply some antiseptic—not necessarily in that order—and then you can take her there to see what they can do for her.”

Noctis didn’t like the way she said that, as if there might not _be_ anything the after-hours clinic could do. He shoved that thought aside for now. “How long will that take?”

“For me to do what I can? Twenty minutes, maybe?”

“Which will give _you_ enough time, Noct,” Ignis chimed in, from where he’d been standing silently at Noctis’ side, “to dry off and warm up.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Corine agreed. “Now get out of my apartment. Need some space to work, here.”

Truth was, Noctis was reluctant to leave the kitten’s side, paranoid that something terrible would happen if he did, but, caught between Corine’s stern stare and Ignis’ gentle but firm hand on his shoulder, it seemed the choice was out of his hands.

He followed Ignis out of the apartment and down the hall, shivering and biting his lip, trying and failing to not think about all the terrible potential things that could happen to that poor kitten while he wasn’t with it.

Was this what it was like being a parent? he wondered. At least a little? Was this along the lines of what his dad had felt every time Noctis had fallen ill as a child? After the Marilith attack? Okay… probably not _that_ bad. Noctis had known this kitten all of, what, half an hour? Not even? But she was so _cute_ , and he already felt attached to her, and he just wanted her to be healthy and happy. Wasn’t that all a parent wanted for their child?

Well, no. Sometimes they wanted their child to grow up and take on the literally life-sapping responsibility of ruling a country and protecting a city, feat. a magic rock. This train of thought was going nowhere good, fast.

“Noct?”

Noctis blinked. Ignis had been talking. Whoops. “Huh?”

Ignis sighed, not impatiently. “I know you’re concerned, but you need to take care of yourself. I asked you if you wanted to use the shower.”

They were standing in the plain, modest, tidy living room of Ignis’ apartment. It smelled faintly of stale coffee and wood smoke from the fireplace.

“Uh… yeah, sure. I guess.”

“Right.” Ignis nodded. “There are clean towels in the bathroom. There’s not enough time to put your clothes in the dryer, but if I leave now I can drive to your apartment and get you some dry clothes.”

Noctis raised his eyebrows. His apartment was only about five minutes away, but the elevator ride from the underground parking to the penthouse took almost as long. “Geez, Specs. Don’t break any speed limits on my account.”

Ignis chuckled drily. “Spare me your irony, Noct. I’m _always_ breaking limits on your account,” he said, feigning loftiness. “Breaking limits is, in fact, my forte.”

He wasn’t kidding. Noctis didn’t exactly keep track of the time while he was in the shower, (in fact, he had a lifelong habit of _losing_ track of the time while in the shower,) but he’d only just started to sweat under the probably-too-hot-to-be-healthy spray when a knock sounded at the bathroom door.

“I’ll leave them out here,” Ignis called. “I’m going to go check in with Corine.”

“Thanks, Iggy,” Noctis called back.

He turned off the shower. Foreboding was swelling like a nasty bruise in the pit of his stomach, and while the hot water had made it easier to ignore, the sudden chill of its absence agitated the ache.

He dried himself off, mostly, and wrapped the towel around his waist while he opened the door enough to retrieve the clothes Ignis had brought.

Ever the pragmatist, Ignis had chosen some thick socks, a soft pair of jeans, a cotton t-shirt, and a slightly oversized jumper. And a fresh pair of underwear. The part of Noctis that was still more teenager than adult (nineteen, he was finding, was both or neither or either) was tempted to feel embarrassed at the idea of someone other than him going into his underwear drawer, but it was only _Ignis_. And there was nothing worse than wet underwear. Not that Noctis had recent experience with that. Before tonight, at least. Because of the rain.

Wow, is that the time? Moving on.

The only persisting problem, once Noctis was comfortably situated in clean, dry clothes, was his hair. He rubbed it vigorously with the towel, but good lord it looked a mess, and there was no time to properly dry and style it.

_Forget about it_ , Noctis told himself, resolutely turning away from the mirror and tossing the towel onto the drying rack. Sky—which was what he’d decided to call the kitten—was more important than his hair.

He heard the apartment’s front door open just as he left the bathroom, and quick-stepped into the entryway to see Ignis standing in the doorway with a zip-up cat carrier in hand.

“Ready to go, Noct?” he asked. “The after-hours clinic is expecting us. Corine called ahead.”

“Remind me to remind you to get her some flowers or chocolates or something,” Noctis said, pulling his damp shoes on. “How far away is it? The clinic?” He peered through the mesh of the carrier at Sky, a puff of black fluff swathed in an off-white towel. Fast asleep, by the looks of her. Not unconscious. Or dead. Asleep. “Like, how long to get there?”

“Less than half an hour, by my estimate,” said Ignis. “Shoes. Ugh. I didn’t think to get you dry shoes.”

Ignis had remembered dry underwear. But not dry shoes.

Noctis shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s go.”

 

Less than half an hour later, a red-haired veterinary nurse took the carrier from them and told them to come back in the morning for pick-up.

“I’m, uh, busy tomorrow morning,” Noctis lied, Saturday mornings being his _only_ non-busy mornings. “How long will it take just to stitch her up?”

The nurse smiled knowingly. “What’s her name?”

“Sky.”

“Well, as well as stitching her up and giving her antibiotics, the vet will want to check Sky’s weight, bloods, vitals, and all that to make sure she’s healthy, and see what we can do about that if not.” The nurse pursed her lips. “If all goes well, she should be ready to go home in about… an hour? How does that sound?”

Noctis glanced at Ignis, who didn’t look particularly pleased, but said neutrally, “It’s your decision, Noct.”

Damn straight it was. “Sounds good. Guess we’ll see you in an hour,” Noctis said to the nurse. He bent to look through the nylon mesh at little Sky, who had woken up and was watching him calmly, silently, with her round blue eyes. “See you soon, buddy,” Noctis said softly.

When they got back to the car, they sat there silently for a minute.

“Well,” Noctis said eventually. “No point going home. We’d just have to turn around as soon as we got there.”

Ignis turned the key part-way to turn on the digital display—specifically the clock. 23:38. It had been just over an hour since Noctis had found Sky in that alleyway. It felt like longer.

“Are you hungry?” Ignis asked. “There may be somewhere around here open late.”

“Downtown, just before midnight on a Friday?” Noctis mused. “I think I know a place. A diner. I could _so_ go for a milkshake right now.”

Ignis narrowed his eyes. “Are you referring to the place from which I had to pick up rather drunk versions of yourself and Prompto last week?”

“Maybe? Yes? Only one way to find out. Look, they have great milkshakes, drunk or not.”

“Very well,” Ignis sighed, putting on his long-suffering prime-attendant-to-a-borderline-delinquent-prince act. He did it so convincingly.

But he drove to the diner anyway. A win in Noctis’ book.

They ordered from a peppy blonde waitress, Sandy (which probably wasn’t her real name), who had a very strong Leiden accent (which probably wasn’t her real accent). Prompto was convinced that Ignis was the kind of guy who ordered plain vanilla milkshakes, but Noctis knew the speccy wonder better than that. _Obviously_ Ignis ordered the triple-shot Altissian espresso milkshake, even though it was nearly midnight—but hey, it was Friday. Plus, Ignis’ caffeine tolerance was immense. Noctis, meanwhile, ordered his favourite, a caramel cream soda milkshake, and they got a medium basket of cheesy curly fries to share.

When they got their fries and milkshakes, Noctis lead Ignis to his and Prompto’s usual booth at the back of the diner, furthest from the bathrooms and nicely secluded. There were only a couple other people in the diner at this time of night, but it was always nice to at least have the illusion of privacy. Seeking out private spots in public places was second nature to Noctis.

They sat down. Ignis fixed Noctis with a thoughtful stare, letting out a long breath through his nose.

“What’s that look for?”

“We need to talk about your… attachment to this kitten.”

Noctis frowned. “You’re going to tell me I can’t keep her, aren’t you?”

To his credit, Ignis looked genuinely sorrowful. “Noct,” he said softly. “Do you really think you’ll be able to take care of her?”

The answer, of course, was no. Noctis fixed his eyes on the table, reluctant to admit it, but it was true. He was so busy, _all_ the time. With school; his job at Sushi King; sitting in on council meetings; training with Gladio; training with the Kingsglaive. He hadn’t opened the curtains in his apartment for two weeks, now, since he was only ever there at night.

“Cats are independent,” he said stubbornly.

“Yes,” Ignis agreed. “ _Cats_ are. But not kittens.”

It shouldn’t have been so painful to face. He’d known Sky for less than two hours. But, and maybe it was his imagination or wishful thinking, he felt like they had some sort of… well, _connection_. As lame as it sounded. The circumstances had aligned perfectly for Noctis to find Sky in that cardboard box, in that alleyway by that bus stop near Sushi King. That couldn’t be a mistake, could it?

As much of a mistake as him being the Crystal’s _chosen_? As him being struck down by a daemon at such an early age? As him _recovering_ , when the odds were against him?

There was no such thing as a mistake or a coincidence. Only possibilities, fulfilled or not. Someone had said that to Noctis, once upon a time, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember who. Maybe he’d only dreamed it.

“I know,” Noctis said, “I know I can’t keep her. But I won’t let her go to a shelter, either.” He could do her that favour, at least. He had nothing against shelters, but they were staffed by volunteers and funded by donations. They didn’t always have the room or resources to accommodate the constant influx of strays and abandoned pets.

Ignis reached across the table, grasping Noctis’ wrist. “I’ll help you find her a home,” he said. “She deserves that. And you deserve the peace of mind.”

“And… visitation rights?” Noctis ventured, glancing up at him.

“That depends where she ends up. They might not want the Crown Prince of Lucis showing up at their doorstep to play with their kitten whenever he feels like it.”

“ _Everyone_ wants the Crown Prince of Lucis showing up at their doorstep to play with their kitten whenever he feels like it.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Ignis said teasingly, letting go of Noctis’ wrist.

Just like that, the serious atmosphere was dispelled and they finished their milkshakes and fries in companionable silence. The spectre of their conversation still hung over Noctis’ head, though, and he couldn’t place precisely what it was that bothered him—because it wasn’t just that he didn’t get to keep Sky. From the beginning, he’d known it was never on the cards. Hadn’t stopped him from hoping.

No. Something else was getting at him, and the smooth taste of caramel cream soda wasn’t enough to wash it away.

“I wonder if my dad gets lonely.”

The words slipped out as they were getting into the car to head back to the clinic.

Ignis looked alarmed. “Sorry?”

“It’s just… it can’t be easy. Being king. There’s a lot going on, a lot that needs doing that _only_ he can do.” Okay. So maybe he wasn’t really talking about his father, per se…

“Perhaps he does. I… couldn’t say for sure.” Ignis sounded uncomfortable, uncertain. “Maybe you should talk to him about it, the next time you see him.”

There was a fundamental issue with that suggestion, in that Noctis didn’t _know_ the next time he’d be able to have a proper conversation with his father and couldn’t remember the last time he had.

Ignis Scientia, it seemed, had no idea what to say—for once.

They drove back to the clinic in silence.

The same nurse was at the front desk when they arrived. She smiled at them and told them to wait just a few minutes, then disappeared through a heavy blue door into the guts of the building.

Noctis and Ignis took seats on the cold plastic bench in the waiting area. As was customary for the waiting areas of all medical facilities, there was a magazine rack with outdated tabloid rags, and a selection of worn, probably second-hand toys and games. A pack of cards, connect four, a couple of stuffed animals: a brown cat with ratty nylon whiskers and a once-golden puppy with the stuffing eking out of a rip in its neck.

Noctis picked up the stuffed cat, staring into its expressionless green-plastic eyes. “Maybe Iris will take her,” he said.

Ignis didn’t reply for a moment. “Undoubtedly, with the approval of Lord and Lady Amicitia.”

“She could probably convince them.”

“I’m sure she could.”

The nurse returned, with the carrier borrowed from Corine in hand and a smile on her face. An unexpectedly intense wave of relief flooded Noctis at the sight of Sky’s little face, hooded eyes blinking long and slow. He dropped the stuffed toy and vaulted to his feet.

“She’s been very good,” the nurse said, setting the carrier on the counter. “The vet was impressed. She was very calm about the needles. Of course, she’s a bit groggy from the anaesthetic, but she should come right by morning.”

Noctis leaned in to look through the mesh. Sky blinked at him. Up close, he could see that she was wearing what looked like a small black sock with five holes cut into it for her legs and tail, covering her torso and hindquarters.

“It’s to protect the stitches,” the nurse explained, noticing Noctis noticing the sock-thing. “She’s too small for a cone, so this is the next best option. A much more stylish option, anyway.”

Noctis chuckled. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Will she need to come back? To get the stitches out?”

“They’re dissolving stitches, so they’ll fall out in due time,” said the nurse. “But it would be good if you brought her back here in a couple days’ time, or to your local daytime clinic, to make sure she’s healing alright. _And_ to discuss spaying options. She’s a bit young, yet, but it’s worth planning. The sooner the better…” she trailed off, then cleared her throat. “Are you paying up front, or in instalments?”

Noctis straightened and looked at Ignis, who was raising an eyebrow at him. Noctis shrugged. “I left my wallet at yours. Put it on the Crown account?” He was the prince, he could spend the Crown’s money on whatever he damn well pleased. Paying for a kitten’s life-saving surgery was perfectly justifiable, anyway. Even if the price of vet care was fucking exorbitant.

Perhaps he could do something about that, once he was king.

Ignis nodded and fished out his own wallet, and from that, the jet-black credit card held only by royals and approved retainers.

The nurse’s eyes widened. Noctis braced himself for the verbal onslaught that usually accompanied recognition.

“Oh,” she said softly.

That… was it? Noctis stared at her. She was looking at him not with an expression of surprise, but of awe.

“We’re paying in full,” he said, in case she had any funny ideas about offering him a royal discount.

“Of course,” the nurse hurried to agree. “It’s just… I thought I recognised you when you walked in, but I didn’t think the _prince_ would go to so much trouble to save a single kitten—and at this hour!”

“You’d be surprised,” Ignis said fondly.

Noctis shrugged. “Well, she’s one of my royal subjects. I guess.”

The nurse nodded, and said earnestly, “Keep on as you’re going, and you’ll be a wonderful king one day, your Highness.”

Ignis had a smug smirk on his face. He knew how much Noctis hated this kind of thing.

“Thanks,” Noctis said self-consciously. “I’ll… be sure to allocate more funding to animal healthcare.”

The nurse’s face lit up. “Oh, _please_ do!” she said passionately.

 

They decided that Noctis (and Sky) would stay the rest of the night at Ignis’, so they could beg for Corine’s kindness again in the morning in the form of some cat food for Sky. The poor thing needed to _eat_ while they looked for her new home. Noctis _really_ hoped the Amicitias would be amenable.

The drive across the city was quiet and sedate; calm, empty. It was well past midnight by now and there were few other cars around. There was something lonely about the perpetually lit-up neon signs and skyward-waving spotlights. Noctis sat with Sky fast asleep in the carrier on his lap, watching white-bright streetlights blink by.

“I’m gonna quit my job,” he said.

“What? Ignis asked, sounding genuinely startled. “Noct—”

“I don’t _need_ a job,” Noctis continued. “I don’t need the money. If I quit, I can do something… _better_ with my time.

Ignis glanced at him. “What are you thinking?” he asked carefully.

Noctis jutted his chin out. “I’m gonna volunteer at the animal shelter.”

Ignis didn’t reply for a moment. A small smile spread across his face. “That’s a wonderful idea, Noct,” he said. His smile transformed into a smirk as he glanced over again. “Worthy of our most benevolent prince.”

“Shut up.” Noctis rolled his eyes. But he was smiling, and the tight knot that had been winding itself tighter and tighter since the panic of waking up late this morning (technically yesterday morning) felt somehow redeemed.

He remembered the lactose-intolerant woman from earlier tonight. _“I truly fear for the future of Lucis_ ,” she had said.

He remembered the nurse from the after-hours vet clinic. _“You’ll be a wonderful king one day_ ,” she had said.

Only one of their premature assessments would be justified in the end. Or maybe it was and always would be a matter of perspective.

“Noct,” Ignis began uncertainly. “What you said earlier, about your father…”

“Oh, that? That was nothing. Just. Been thinking a lot lately. That’s all.” Probably too much. Probably overthinking. But he didn’t need to say that.

Ignis hummed. “I just wondered if that was why you seem to feel such a kinship with the kitten.”

Noctis went back to staring out the window. “Maybe.”

“I’ve wondered if _I_ should get a cat,” Ignis said.

Noctis head snapped back around so fast he almost gave himself whiplash. “What? Really? _You?”_

“Yes, _me_ ,” Ignis said. “Why not? I quite fancy felines. More than dogs, at least. Too much energy in a dog. Cats are much calmer.”

“Then… why don’t you get one?” Even better, Noctis almost suggested: Why don’t _you_ keep Sky?

“I figured… I’ve basically already got one, haven’t I?”

Noctis’ eyebrows twisted in confusion for a full three seconds before he realised. It was him. _He_ was the cat. Ignis was talking about Noctis.

“Wow,” he said slowly. “Good to know you think so highly of me.”

“You’re welcome,” Ignis said pleasantly.

Smiling, Noctis glanced down, through the carrier mesh, at the sleeping kitten, then up, through the windscreen, at the light-polluted night sky.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this story went through a few different permutations. When I originally conceived of the idea, the kitten was so totally gonna die. But when it came to writing it I just... couldn't do it. I'll happily torture characters, but bringing a poor, innocent kitten into this fictional world only to _murder_ it is just... too far, man. Even for me. In another version, which sat in my WIP folder for several weeks, Noctis found not one but five kittens in that alley. But I didn't know what to do with all those kittens, so I... eliminated them from existence. Fuck.
> 
> You know what? Whatever. All's fair in love and writing. I'm glad I didn't kill the kitten, though. I don't think that would have fit with the vibe of this story and the other one in this series. As for a third, feat. Gladio? hMmMMmMmm that was the plan but I don't have the time or enthusiasm to seriously entertain it, right now, unfortunately. 
> 
> Oh, but hey! If you like Ignoct, I wrote a piece for Matsuri Zine, [which you can learn more about here](http://matsurizine.tumblr.com/)! While I'm here, may as well plug my own [tumblr](https://voxanonymi.tumblr.com/), where I complain about things and occasionally reblog actual content.


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